If it were Easy, Everyone would be doing It

let’s face it, packing is boring and it makes you hungry, even if you’ve eaten in the last ten minutes. i just downed a creation made of aloo chana and basmati rice wrapped up in a tortilla and topped with mango passion chutney. it was tasty. the meal i had ten minutes before that was similar, except for the addition of cheddar-flavored rice veggie slices. not so good. now i’m eyeing up the chocolate sauce. and a pound of butter.

In the 31 years since I moved to Idaho, I’ve gotten older. This would have happened no matter where I lived, but the influence of the surroundings has to count for something in the life story. The high desert is clement, fertile, and dry, in a way that can’t be fully comprehended until you’ve been thoroughly and irrevocably dried out by the atmosphere, the sun, the spirit of sand with its bleaching, scorching quality that seems like a ‘forties movie until you’re living it. when you’ve lived it for 31 years, it ceases to be remarkable. I’m getting ready for the bluegrass, and an overall change of scene.

Eyeliner, especially when it’s a half-inch thick and black, is my fave fashion look of the last fifty-eight years. Nothing says I’m mysterious, artistic, hip, and sophisticated in a slutty way like the expertly-applied swoop of paint atop the upper eyelashes. In the mid-sixties, eyeliner was the most frequently shoplifted item among fourteen year old girls, who applied it between classes in the bathroom, sometimes several times during the school day, then washed it off before boarding the bus to go home.

I have a very large record collection, which my daughter is helping to pare down so we can afford to move across the country. Yesterday she held up a Dusty Springfield album, saying, “We don’t really need this, do we?”

Hello—Queen of Eyeliner!